


Among The Great, Green Halls

by Mariabella Baggins (AgentFrostbite)



Series: The Dragon Riders of Middle Earth [4]
Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies), The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: (hey look I forgot another tag), Anyone who thinks otherwise can come and fight me, Author is taking many liberties, Author is unsure if J.R.R. Tolkien would approve but likes to imagine he would, Author makes her own canon, Bella has secrets, Dwarves still don't like dragons, Family Issues, Family Secrets, Female Bilbo Baggins, Female Ori, Gen, Hobbits do not like being in Erebor, Hobbits in Erebor, Middle Earth needs more dragons, More made-up stuff, Tricks up sleeves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 16:38:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18898537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentFrostbite/pseuds/Mariabella%20Baggins
Summary: The journey to Erebor is behind them. The thick web of political intrigue and madness lies before them. King Thror is eager to see the fabled dragon-charmer for himself, but Thorin, Bella, and Gerontius know to watch their steps carefully. While Thorin deals with his slowly fracturing family behind the scenes, Gerontius takes on a monumental task, and Bella slips away to have a meeting with herotherkin.





	Among The Great, Green Halls

**Author's Note:**

> I CAN EXPLAIN
> 
> I know I've been off radar for a couple weeks and have missed three posting days, but I was sick. Tl;dr, I went to a homeschool prom, got sick, had nothing in me to post on Sunday or Tuesday, and when I felt better, I decided to resume my proper posting schedule. Except yesterday, I rolled out of bed to help the fam plant some trees, then went from there to a friend's graduation, then went front there to a spur-of-the-moment hang-out game night, and didn't get home till 9. By then I was wiped, and I fell into bed shortly after, so here we are on Monday. ...that's not so short after all. Whoops.
> 
> In any event, I'm back and I'm posting again! Also, Dwarves? Really, really, REALLY hard to write. Oy. I'm not entirely happy with the Dwarvish section of this thing, but I'm too scared of messing it up to change it, and I'll have other chances to do it right later.
> 
> Fair word of warning, I'm not actually going to write anything but singular words/phrases in any language except for Westron (English) because if I do, then I have to 1) Find the words/phrases in full sentences that I'd need to use, 2) confirm this stuff is actually what I think it is, 3) figure out how to work footnotes so I can shoot you to the translation and back to the text so you can understand what's going on, and 4) I forget what I was gonna put here, but it was another key point. I'll have cues and keys so everyone knows what everyone's speaking in, but to actually do the translations and whatnot? I'm an overachiever, but even I am not that good.
> 
> In any event, here is the fourth installment in an I-honestly-do-not-know-how-long-this-will-be series that I hope you enjoy!

  The trip itself had been quite the affair, but it was nothing compared to their arrival at Erebor's great stone gateway. The huge entrance seemed to defy the limits of the imagination, with its large gold doors and deep green stone. The hallway beyond was _enormous_. The ceilings stretched far beyond where any of them could see, and the pillars reached upwards to meet them. From the many balconies and hallways that hung over and stemmed off of the main path, Dwarves looked on the strange group, and very few of their gazes were kind.

  The path to the Throne Room was adorned with gold, silver, precious metals, and other such symbols of wealth and status. It was all polished to perfection, and it caught the light from the many lanterns and torches and reflected it at the Hobbits and their dragons in a rainbow of colors. Bella noticed that it seemed to cast an unearthly halo around Thorin. Unlike the ethereal halo of Luminar light, which stripped away titles and facades and showed the people beneath them, this light seemed to elevate his royal status, and painted him in gold that lit his eyes up with what looked like traces of madness. He never looked directly at the gold for long.

  The Throne Room itself was more massive than any of the many they'd been led through. It had a single large, long walkway to the throne itself, which was situated beneath a rough funnel of stone laced with gold. Statues of Dwarves, carved from the walls themselves, stood guard over the walkway, with axes eternally poised at the ready. Behind and to the sides of the chair were other walkways leading out of the room. On the head of the chair itself, they could see a glowing, white stone.

  Bella's stomach turned when she saw it, and she couldn't help the nervous look she cast at her grandfather, who shot her a matching one back.

  They stopped about twenty feet from the throne, and from King Thror, who sat upon it. He and those with him were arrayed in all their finery, though Thror wore mostly gold, and his sharp blue eyes held clear evidence of madness.

  Greedy madness.

  "Welcome to the mighty kingdom of Erebor!" he greeted. The delegation of Hobbits all went down to a knee, just in case a simple bow wouldn't be considered enough. "I trust your trip was pleasant."

  "Never before have we felt so safe when traversing these lands," the Mayor, Bill Whitfoot, replied. There was, of course, no need to say they had never made the trip before. "We thank you graciously for allowing us to enter your halls, King Thror."

  "For such a treaty as this, letting you into Erebor is a small price to pay," Thror answered. There was a slight edge to his words, one that none of the Hobbits had any description for, aside from 'DANGER,' in large, red, capital letters. "And how has the delegation been?" Thorin didn't flinch or shrink under his grandfather's gaze, but returned it with what Bella was starting to refer to as the 'Durin Glare.' It was, all those present had to admit, far more open hostility than any of them had expected from an official meeting.

  "Amazingly patient, and very tolerant of our shortcomings and mistakes," the Mayor spoke again. "We seem to have had some issues with a troublemaker – for which, we offer our deepest apologies – but they have let us work it out without so much as a single sharp word exchanged." That was a lie, and a blatant one. Everyone working with the delegation knew that the only reason any of this was still on the workable level was because Thorin had glared and chastised everyone into line. There were _plenty_ of sharp words, and even sharper glares besides, but it seemed to be an unspoken agreement that no-one was to give the King anything to be displeased about. Nevertheless, all of the Hobbits caught the shocked and grateful looks that Thror most definitely missed.

  Possibly because he'd just located the odd one out. "And this is the fabled dragon-charmer who saved my grandson's life?" Bella squared her shoulders and walked to the front of the delegation, unconsciously stopping beside Thorin and going down on one knee again. "The kingdom thanks you," he replied, somewhat neutrally. "What do you think of Erebor?"

  "Your kingdom's magnificence far surpasses any rumors or songs I have been lucky enough to hear, your Majesty," Bella answered. Behind her, Twilight watched both Bella and Thror very closely. Bella hoped Lucky would remain in the little saddlebag she'd rather unceremoniously stuffed him into before they'd arrived. "We are in your debt, O King."

  "Perhaps it will be in the reverse before too much longer," he remarked. No-one there seemed to like the almost possessive way he looked at her as if she were just another thing to add to his treasure hoard. She stood up and stepped back among the delegation, and they wordlessly closed around her. "Let us find suitable quarters for our honored guests!" Thror announced. Gerontius and Bella shared a very concerned look. 

* * *

   It concerned Thorin greatly. Thror had barely looked at him, except to make sure he'd caused no damage to the treaty, despite having received letters from at least three of the guard that Thorin had almost been killed twice. And only one of those letters was from him, so the other two likely painted the situation far worse than it had been.

  Thorin, of course, held back on a great many details about Bella, and he was now very glad that he had.

  Shaking these thoughts off, he made his way to the Royal Wing, where the rest of the family waited for his return. As soon as he was through the doors, he was set upon by Fili and Kili, who almost knocked him over as they slammed into him, confirming he was really there and alright with a rib-cracking dual hug. "We're so glad you're alright!" Fili exclaimed. No-one in Erebor spoke anything but Khuzdul when not around outsiders. To hear it was like music to Thorin's ears. Better than hammers on anvils, or the whooshing of forge flames.

  Unfortunately, it was nowhere near as comforting as he wished it would've been.

  Dis crossed the room next, pulling her big brother into her arms. He gratefully returned her embrace, then that of his brother-in-law. "Any word on Adad?" Thorin asked, not entirely sure he wanted to know the answer.

  "No change," Dis answered. "Amad still refuses to leave his side." He nodded. "Thorin…" She stopped and sighed, gathering her words and trying to find a good way to tell him.

  "Thror's gotten worse," Vili finished for her.

  "I know," Thorin replied. The four walked over to the chairs and couches. Thorin tried not to focus on how much worse Vili's limp had gotten. "What can we do? Without the Council on our sides, no-one will stand with us, no matter how right they think we are."

  "What about the Hobbits?" Kili suggested. Dis shook her head.

  "I have heard tales about these Halflings. They're fond of hearth and home, and aren't inclined toward interfering in other people's affairs. Even if we were to ask for their assistance, I doubt we would receive more than well wishes from the lot," she dismissed.

  "I would not be so sure," Vili contested. "They're here, aren't they? They can see what has happened. You think they will not help if they see how it's destroying him?" She shook her head again.

  "The dragon-charmer might," Thorin murmured. Everyone looked at him. "The Thain and his granddaughter both know the touch of dragon-sickness, and Miss Baggins herself is, despite her mannerisms, very much inclined to assist us."

  "How much can we trust her?" Fili asked.

  "With this secret," Thorin answered almost immediately. It did not go unnoticed.

  "Well," Dis changed the subject, "Amad is eager to see you alive and well for herself. You'd best get going." Thorin, nodded, rose, and walked toward his father's quarters.

  Thrain, who had been knocked into a coma after the debacle that was the Battle of Azanulbizar, had been sleeping peacefully for two years. The healers couldn't wake him, and Thorin's mother, Uma, refused to let them send him to the Halls of Durin. She was infinitely happy to see Thorin alive and safe, and she shed a few tears for it. These were trying times, and Thorin would've given all the gold in Erebor away to Elves just to see his family happy and whole once more.

  That dream seemed to be slipping further and further away with each passing day.

  "I am glad to have you home," she said, retaking her seat by Thrain's side. "He still has not woken. The healers are less certain that he will ever wake." She sighed deeply. "I am almost ready to take him to the Elves, just to see if they might be able to identify what's causing this." She gestured to him with a weak wave, then rested her head in her hands. "Thror was here yesterday, asking after him." Thorin tried not to hope. It would only make it hurt more when she let him down.

  When _he_ let them all down again.

  "I thought I could see the old Thror, just for a moment, but he slipped behind the mask once more." In a much quieter voice, she added, "He does not believe Thrain will ever wake, either.

  Thorin took her hands in his. "He will wake again, Amad. Grandfather will return to himself, Erebor will flourish, and we will be happy. I will do everything in my power to make it so." They pressed their foreheads together in a Dwarven gesture of affection. She pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead a moment later, and her eyes reflected her smile.

  "I know you will." 

* * *

   Gerontius was very sure he was being watched. By whom, he didn't know, but he knew he was being watched. Thorn knew it too, and he kept looking toward the door of the room, almost as if he expected the watcher to appear any moment. Gerontius simply smiled and kept reading his book for another good half hour. By then, he'd determined that it must've been a Dwarf watching him, because any Fae who might be watching that wasn't looking to harm him would've worked up the nerve to enter by then, and any Fae that _was_ looking to harm him would've made both himself and Thorn very uneasy.

  "The door is open," he stated nonchalantly, "and I promise that I do not bite."

  It was another minute or so before his shy watcher showed herself. She was a Dwarrowdam – a young one, too, he guessed – with her ginger hair tied behind her head in tassels of braids. Tucked under her arm, almost hidden by her thick clothes, was a small, worn book. Her brown eyes constantly flitted from him to Thorn and back again. It really wasn't hard the guess what she was there to see.

  "Good afternoon, miss," Gerontius greeted cordially, gently closing his book, rather than snapping it shut as he often did, so as not to startle the poor girl. "What can I help you with?"

  "Um…" she started shyly. Thorn purred, and she looked to him for a while before remembering that she'd been addressed and returning her gaze to the Hobbit. "I had heard rumors about… Well, about _him_ ," she said with a nod to Thorn, who tilted his head. His curious manner seemed to set her at ease. "Everyone's talking about the dragon-charmers, and that you had _two_ Night Furies, and I've never seen one before. Would you mind if I sketched him?" Despite being at ease, all of this came out haltingly, and with quite a few stutters, and she mostly reminded Gerontius of nervous fauntlings, shyly following him and Thorn, hoping for a peek at the noble and heroic Night Fury. It made him smile.

  "Not at all," he answered. She nodded her thanks and pulled her book out from beneath her arm, keeping her eyes locked on Thorn as she slowly sat down and opened it to a blank page. Thorn had posed for a great many drawings and sketching during his life, so he was very aware of what the lass wanted, and he responded accordingly. He walked over and sat down, wings tucked in and tail swept out to the side. She gasped in wonder and amazement, staring at him for a long moment, before she picked up her pencil and began to draw.

  She was more adept an artist than either Bella or her father had been, so Gerontius watched her over the top of his book almost as much as he watched Thorn practically preen. Every now and then, the lass would look up at Thorn, studying some feature, and then return to her drawing. He judged she was almost finished the first time Thorn shifted closer to her.

  The old warrior always did have a soft spot for shy ones.

  She froze, gaze once again jumping from Thorn to Gerontius, and only settling more permanently on the dragon when Gerontius gave her a small nod of assurance. She then hesitantly returned to her sketch, adding final details and finishing up this or that, always keenly aware when Thorn moved closer to her. She did not, however, put more distance between herself and Thorn. She was most definitely a scholar, though only years of having interacted with Bungo and Bella taught Gerontius that the lass' sharp and studying gaze was the mark of such a one.

  "Um…" she said uncertainly, once Thorn had gotten within pouncing distance. "Um, he's… Do I… I'm not… I mean, I don't-"

  "If he gets too close, just hold your hand out, like this," Gerontius replied with a very audible smile. Though he hid his face behind his book so she wouldn't catch the telltale twinkle in his eyes, he demonstrated the taming hand. She nodded a few times, then went back to her sketch, though she was only using it as a distraction so she could watch Thorn while pretending like she wasn't.

  Thorn finally got close enough that if either of them leaned while the lass had her arm outstretched, they'd have made contact with the other. And that was exactly what she did. She hid her face behind her book and reached her arm out, palm open, fingers splayed. She didn't dare peek. As for Thorn? Well, it now seemed clear that the dragon and his rider had planned this, because he very gently leaned in, pressing his muzzle against her hand. She flinched, mostly out of shock, then slowly lowered her book so she could come face to face with the dragon, who had his eyes closed.

  Gerontius grinned like the cat that ate the canary. The lass' eyes lit up with wonder and disbelief, and she crept close enough that she could run her hand along the side of his head, which she did. Thorn purred softly, and the dwarrowdam smiled.

  "And that, my dear, is how you train a dragon," Gerontius spoke. She looked at him with amazement and understanding.

  Perhaps this wouldn't be so difficult after all. 

* * *

   Bella's room was huge. Yes, her smial was most definitely larger than this room, and yes, she'd been in larger places before, but this room seemed to tower over her in an entirely new way. Her Hobbit hole's size was spread out and the ceiling was never more than three feet above her head, unlike this room, whose ceiling stretched almost beyond where she could see. Nor was it like Rivendell, where the open spaces connected to nature, which made it feel less like a large space and more like part of the forested hills in which Rivendell was buried. It wasn't even like Deepwood Palace, whose tall ceilings – though not as tall as these – were covered with glass and leafed branches.

  No, these ceilings were cavernous, designed to reach to the edge of what her vision could discern. Perhaps it was easier for the Dwarves, who lived in the dim light, to see everything. But for Bella, accustomed to bright sunlight, it was very difficult to see far in this place. She felt completely exposed. It was worse than being beneath a clouded night sky in the Meadow, all alone. The shadows that danced at the corners of the rooms seemed to watch her, and Bella – to her surprise – wished she were at home.

  She shook her head and tried to focus on other things. She'd brought along both business and leisure reading, and decided to get through the had-to-do first. It was a copy of the treaty, and she started reading through it while at the hardwood desk. There was good light over there, and if she ignored the wall, she could actually pretend that she was simply in a basement room of the Great Hall, secretly reading a treaty that she wasn't supposed to have.

  But paranoia was never far away, and after one too many strange, creaking echoes, Bella took the contract and moved to the bed. She even dragged over one of the candle stands to provide her with more light. Twilight, curled up on the bed, was fast asleep. As was Lucky, who, as usual, was curled up in the crook of Twilight's body. It was rather cute, and if she'd had the foresight to bring her pencils and some blank paper, she'd have sketched the two. Sketching always seemed to calm her frayed nerves.

  The distractions failed. Bella looked at the dragons once more, then out the window. She sighed and shifted over to them. Twilight didn't even stir for a few minutes, while Bella stroked her and Lucky both. "Wake up, my darlings," she spoke quietly. "We're going to go visit Farasail."

  That woke Twilight right up. The Night Fury always loved soaring through the woods. There was, indeed, something strangely magical about it, as there was with all Fae realms. But Bella guessed that what Twilight loved best was that she glowed.

  Twilight almost leapt to her feet, and only Bella's quick intervention saved Lucky from being deposited on his face. The little Smokebreath was _not_ very happy with his adoptive sister, and the grouchy look he plastered on his face and glared at Twilight was so amusing that Bella couldn't help but laugh. It took twice as long as usual to lace Twilight's saddle on, and as soon as she did, Twilight took off…without her.

  It took the overexcited dragon a couple minutes to realize her mistake, and it was another four before Bella could quell her laughter long enough to climb on. They soared toward the Starlight Forest, with Lucky clinging to Bella, as Twilight was flying much too fast for the little thing to hope to keep up. They zipped by the Gate so fast that if any of the guards did manage to catch the black blur, they wouldn't know what to make of it. And anyway, Twilight was flying high, near the mountaintop, so they probably wouldn't feel her air displacement.

  The trip to the forest was short, and Bella spent most of it just enjoying the crisp air and the feeling of being free. Lucky watched everything with suspicious curiosity, and clung to Bella for more than just the speed. It endeared the little Rattler to Bella even more than he already was.

  The Luminars stood at 3/4ths the height of the fabled Lothlórien trees, deeper in the forest. For most outsiders, that was where the real Farasail began. But for the Fae who lived there and took care of the woods, Farasail was where the trees were; tiny, plain oak and tall, glowing Luminar alike. Though they were only regular trees, the kind that could be found anywhere in Middle Earth, the contact with and care by Faes made them grow a bit larger than their regular counterparts. As such, flying beneath their branches, much closer to the ground, was less risky here because the gaps between the trees higher up was larger than in the Shire.

  They didn't even need to see where they were going to know where to go. They were pulled forward by the deep, ancient, ancestral call of _home_ that ran through the veins of both dragons and Hobbit alike. Yavanna herself had a hand in creating these forests, and as such, all her children – created Hobbits and semi-adopted Faes – would always feel that sense of belonging in magic forests like this one.

  The Sprites, which were the Faes' helpers, summoned from the dirt and trees and rivers, floated and flew around the forest, lighting the way like an army of multi-colored fireflies. They sang and laughed and filled the night with their ethereal, chime-like voices. The glow they cast lit only the small area around them, but it sparked the glow on both Twilight and Lucky alike. The dragons lit up as the Sprites passed them, creating a hypnotic, almost dizzying light show on their wings.

  The bioluminescent aura of the Luminars reached through the leafy branches and cast rays of light upon them. When they finally broke through the threshold of the 'Starlight' portion of the Starlight Forest, the dragons' true beauty was revealed. Beneath the trees' light, their bodies and wings lit up with an absolutely dazzling glow. Twilight sported sparkling blue stripes across her wings, patterned like sand on a wave-disturbed beach. The fins that divided her in half from muzzle to tail had a much fainter, darker blue glow, hinting as the special power that all Night Furies could unlock. Lucky, on the other hand, had a much stranger coloration. Instead of the purplish-white markings that Smothering Smokebreaths possessed, Lucky's skull and bone markings on his wings and body shined with a dark green, not white.

  There were other dragons and their riders flying, as well. The Luminar light colored Faes' wings in a similar way, though theirs was less dramatic than the breathtaking designs on the dragons. It wasn't hard to pick out each rider from the way their wings shined in the unearthly light. There were Raincutters, Moldruffles, Gronckles, Deathly Galeslashes, Shockjaws, and so many more, beyond what Bella could actually see.

  Flights through the forest never lasted long enough. One of these days, Bella and Twilight were going to come back, and they'd spend an entire night soaring around the forest and reveling in the glow.

  Ahead of them, in the crook of a steeply rising hill, lie Deepwood Palace. Supported by the living trees that were cultivated in and grew around it, the grand home of the sitting high rulers of all Fae stood as the symbol of the core of the Crystalwing Faes. This was their home, as it had been for many ages, and would be until the Breaking of the World. It was almost camouflaged, and if Bella had been an unknowing traveler, soaring above the canopy, she wouldn't have seen it at all.

  The soldiers that stood at the outer wall watched as the trio soared by. There was a platform at the front of the Palace, one that led directly into the Throne Room, designed for accepting dragon-carried guests. They landed, and Twilight shook once Bella dismounted. Lucky, to whom this was all very new, crawled up Bella's arm and settled on her shoulder, like a parrot might. He looked at everything with a curious gaze. Twilight, who knew this place, bounded off down the stairs, eager to see everyone again.

  "Greetings, my Queen." Bella looked down the stairs to the speaker.

  "Hello, Hayla," Bella replied fondly.


End file.
